This is a favorite concert story on mine involving the Mr Fripp. A few friends and I attended KC's last show at the Fillmore here in Denver. Living Colour was the opening. We arrived just as LC was starting. We grabbed some malted-hopped beverages and stood next to the bar while we decided where to stand. Shortly we were told to move so we went down on the floor next to the soundboard which was placed about halfway across the main floor to the stage. We began listening to LC, hadn't seen them before, pretty good stuff. Standing in front of us was this odd, seemingly out of place man who was well groomed, well-dressed and had good smelling aftershave on. This guy was absorbed into LC's show too. Out of curiousity, I sort of got around the side of this gent, looked over at him...sure enough it was Fripp! I almost wet myself. I went back to my buds, we were only about 4-5 feet behind him and I tried to calmly yell in her ears without being too loud that Fripp could hear, while the loud music was playing, that the dude in front of us was Fripp. We all look on wide-eyed. A few songs went by. We all knew one does NOT bother him especially when a band is performing. All I wanted to tell him was thanks for coming back to Denver since their two previous shows were snowed out. We were all content with at least sharing the space with him untill this big-lug of a guy comes out of the crowd recognizes him and tries to talk to him. Fripp puts up his hand immediatly, waves him off saying ,'no-no" and darts into the blackness of the audience like a fox being persued by the hounds. Damn! Dude! You don't do that! Urggghh! The guy actually tries to follow him. Wondering what happened, a few minutes later Fripp shows up on the other siide of the soundboard, continues watching LC and I caught his eye and nodded. That's my Fripp encounter. At least I got a good story out of it.

Last edited by lofreequency on Wed Nov 02, 2005 11:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.

I was walking towards 12th and Porter around 3:00 on Saturday, May 20, 2000 for the second TCOL "rehearsal" show. My friend and I, had arrived from Detroit at around 10:00am in Nashville with nothing to do and nowhere to go except walk around for about 10 hours until showtime. We were nearing the venue to see if anything was going on yet. It was still a deserted street, except for RF, who had just driven past us, parked on the other side of the club in a small lot, and was now walking towards us. My friend noticed him first:"Hey, there's Robert Fripp!" and started walking briskly toward him. I immediately yelled (quietly) to him "No! Don't talk to him! Don't try to speak at him! He'll run!" My friend slowed way down, and we settled for a "Hello Robert!" (spoken from a reasonable distance).

Patricia Fripp was MUCH more approachable, and came around to many of the tables on the restaurant side of the venue to say hello.

I know we didn't give Fripp a chance at being "fan-friendly", but I know how it would have gone...

(1) During a break in one of the P3 shows, RF took a piss in the urinal a couple of stalls down from me. Luckily, I had no brush with RF on this occasion, nor him with me. We maintained courteous distance.

(2) Some friends of mine got married while on a long Crafty weekend for non-guitar players. RF "gave away the bride," my friend Susan. About a month later, Susan and Eric had a reception in Podunk Delaware. They invited RF, who sent his regrets. But then during the reception he called to wish them all the best. I remember Susan coming downstairs during the reception and telling me, "Robert just called."

After the show at The House of Blues in 2001, I was standing outside. Some rather short guy walked out of the backstage door carrying a guitar on his back in its case and just walked past everyone very quickly and very discreetly. It happened so quietly and quick, I did not realize who it was. I saw him just continue walking down the street.

Someone, somewhere later reported he was seen back in the hotel coffee shop or restaurant sitting alone readng a book.

Gilesfan wrote:After the show at The House of Blues in 2001, I was standing outside. Some rather short guy walked out of the backstage door carrying a guitar on his back in its case and just walked past everyone very quickly and very discreetly. It happened so quietly and quick, I did not realize who it was. I saw him just continue walking down the street.

Someone, somewhere later reported he was seen back in the hotel coffee shop or restaurant sitting alone readng a book.

Oh come on! Tell us who it was!!! The anticipation is making me slightly moist! Don't be shy...

Gilesfan wrote:After the show at The House of Blues in 2001, I was standing outside. Some rather short guy walked out of the backstage door carrying a guitar on his back in its case and just walked past everyone very quickly and very discreetly. It happened so quietly and quick, I did not realize who it was. I saw him just continue walking down the street.

Someone, somewhere later reported he was seen back in the hotel coffee shop or restaurant sitting alone readng a book.

Oh come on! Tell us who it was!!! The anticipation is making me slightly moist! Don't be shy...

I am sure it was Fripp who snuck out the door.

Sure was not me at the hotel. I would maybe say hi to Fripp in the right setting, but would certainly not chase or follow him. I think it was someone before a concert telling "band/concert stories" who mentioned it to me.

It was in Los Angeles. (I live in Japan, I'm not from there…), about '79.

He was promoting the Exposure album. He did a couple of gigs in LA, like at Madam Wong's. Just him in his narrow tie with the original Les Paul and twin vox Frippertonics set-up. But I didn't see those gigs. I spotted a small announcement in the Los Angeles Times that Robert Fripp would perform for free in the Tower Records shop on Sunset Blvd in Hollywood. So, I was there! Under 10 feet from him whilst he went about doing his amazing Frippery. At that time, after he got done with the first run he'd play it back and do blistering but quiet solos over the gentile waves of infinite looping sustained Les Paul loveliness. And that is exactly what he did. And I was pretty much right next to him. It was as good as you might imagine it to be. After he was done he answered a few questions. About the only question I remember was that someone asked after David Cross and Jamie Muir and Fripp said the last he'd heard of David was he'd gone off to Ireland with his violin under his arm and Jamie had become a monk. Then we all lined up for a signing. I already had Exposure at home, but I more than willingly bought another copy for the chance to have the maestro sign it. As you know Exposure had a reproduction of Fripp's signature on the cover, so it was pretty cool to have the real thing right next to that. Each of us had the opportunity to say something to the Fripp. I was just 19, I think. I barely managed to mumble something to the man about the fact that I thought Exposure was a "beautiful" album. Fripp said thank you politely and signed. What I really remember was this one girl who was there. She was this short but charming little lady who for the world looked the spitting image of the smiling "moon child" girl on the cover of "In The Wake of Poseidon". I wouldn't be at all surprised if Fripp also remembers her also to this day. She didn't ask Fripp to sign a record cover. She brought out this strange little home-made electronic instrument. Fripp played with it a moment and then signed it "The Eno". The other thing I clearly remember about that day was the fact that Fripp had an enormously long pinky fingernail. What was that about? I wonder.

Speaking of Eno: when I was an art student at the University of California at Santa Cruz I attended a lecture, that's right, a lecture, by Brian Eno. The lecture was entitled "The Recording Studio As A Musical Instrument" or something like that. The highlight for me was when he described the playing and the mixing of the guitar solo from "Baby's On Fire".

I too went to a local Frippertronics presentation around 1979. I don't remember all that much about it since at the time I thought all of that guitar looping was so boring. Now to me it is about one step above boring. Anyway, towards the conclusion I was one of a small handfull of remaining spectators. He took a few questions, but I was just silently standing there drooling over his black Les Paul guitar. He finally asked if I wanted to hold it. I was nervous and just sheepishly declined. In hindsight I probably would have dropped it and broke the neck off. Fripp was very polite and pleasant (and not at all like I expected him to be). Now I wish I'd brought my trusty pocket cassette recorder.